Secrets, Music, and Solaces
by acutelittlestory
Summary: All Haruka Hayakawa ever wanted was to study robotics. Is being some sort of famous singer/pianist all there is in life? Probably not. So she finds a way to escape the pressures of daily life and find a place, her own place, in SFIT. She finds herself in class 11D where she meets and entangles herself in the life of Tadashi Hamada, which, isn't that bad actually.
1. PROLOGUE

It was a cold and rainy day in San Fransokyo. A young woman was walking...well, more like running, down the street, creating splashes on the cool, blue-grey puddles. She sported a black dress topped with a cream colored cardigan. She had no umbrella and she was soaking wet...and yet, she was actually smiling. "I...I...I actually got away!" she let out an excited rush of breath, "I'm FREEEE!"

The woman stared up at the sky, raindrops pouring on her face as she shouted, "I just wanna study robotics! Is that so much to ask for!?" The sky thundered in reply, as if to say hey, don't look at me! this wasn't my idea in the first place! The girl let out a deep sigh and continued on as the rain grew stronger. She kept walking down the steep, grey road, typical San Fransokyo trademark. The streets were virtually empty. After all, it was 12 pm. Who in their right mind would go walking at this hour?

She finally stopped at a street filled with acres of large masions and fine cherry blossoms and oak trees, and well trimmed gardens filled with every type of flower imaginable. She climbed up the small set of stairs which let to the porch of a white and baby blue mansion. The girl patted the pockets of her sopping, wet cardigan, "Where's that-" she spotted a gleaming piece of metal under the carpet of the front door. "Ughh, I left it here again?" the girl sighed and stooped to pick up the key. "I have the memory of a grandma..." she mumbled to herself as she fiddles to open the lock of the house. With a tiny click the door swung open to reveal-

"You're late." said a deep, baritone voice from the giant living room. A middle aged Asian man was standing in front of a giant divan, dressed in a fine, silk, monogramed robe with the initials K.H. His hair was swept in a classic, gentleman fashion, strands of metallic silver and whit hair mixed in with the black. He wore thin, rectangular, gold-rimmed glasses on a rectangular-liek face with hints of stubble on the chin. It was none other than Kazuo Hayakawa, world famous technology and robotics designer and engineer. Not to mention the owner of one of San Fransokyo's most esteemed and key technology makers and distributors; Hayakawa Inc.

Haruka sighed. "Hi...dad." haruka tried for one of her best smiles.

Mr. Hayakawa's eyebrows knit together until his face formed a wrinkled frown, which he often did when he was:

a. concerned

b. angry

c. having a really bad case of constipation

Unfortunately, Haruka knew his frown was most likely caused by a and b.

"Where were you? I received a call from Mrs. Arashi. She was saying you just ran away and cut piano and violin classes; again. Don't you have any idea-"

Haruka cut in, "How much you're disappointed in me and how much mom would be too, and how irresponsible, selfish, and reckless I am. Yeah, I know. But maybe if you just let me take robotics-"

"Oh no, not that again. Well, if you're so good at butting in and knowing what's going to come out of my mouth, then I shouldn't have to tell you what I'm going to say next. But knowing how stubborn you are, I think I'll say it anyways. Robotics is most definitely not a lady-like job. There's barely any place for a proper, well-off woman in the field and industry and I forbid you to even try."

"Because you're a narrow-minde, ignorant father who doesn't even care the slightest about his daughter's interests. Only his own. And you know what, that's fine. I don't even know why I tried. Alright, you win. I'll continue music, attend every class, and just live the rest of my life miserably. Thanks, dad."

Her voice steady and calm. She was used to his daily mantra and figured she could probably handle this bout of anger like she had all the others. But she realized she couldn't take it anymore. Enough silence. Enough swallowing her words. She wanted to say something, to speak up.

Mr. Hayakawa was silent. "Go to your ro-" but before he could even finish his sentence, the main door of the house was slammed shut, and the spatters and pour of the rain from outside was the only sound in the house. And he was left alone. Again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Here's chapter 1! Enjoy! Please leave reviews, I would really appreciate it! (^_^)**

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Haruka took a sip from the beautifully decorated ornate coffee cup. She felt the steam of her coffee on the bridge of her nose to her forehead as she contemplated her next move. That is, if she had any moves left. After all, she's spent almost 15 years trying to convince her dad to let her take robotics. Ever since her mother died when she was 6, it's _all_ she's ever done. But her dad wouldn't have any of it; he just kept throwing in_ more_ piano lessons, violin lessons, singing lessons, etiquette lessons, fashion lessons, almost any kind of lesson he could think of except for the one lesson, the one thing, she had ever wanted to learn. It saddened her just thinking about it.

Haruka just didn't understand any of it. Her dad does robotics. Heck, he's the founder of one of the most influential tech companies in the whole San Fransokyo; Hayakawa Inc. They produced almost everything; carbon fiber materials, steel and iron wires, electrical circuits, digital phones, kitchenware, computers, holographic displays, and even _nanny robots_. And yet, the esteemed Mr. Kazuo Hayakawa wouldn't even let his own daughter join the robotics and technology empire. _Why_? Because she was a_ girl_. It's chauvinistic/sexist, brutish, and completely narrow-minded behavior, but hey, that's her dad. He firmly believed that women need to know the finer things in life, like music and manners and beauty and all that. Brains was an optional thing, and for his daughter, whom he raised in what he believed and referred to as "an extremely privileged and comfortable life", he believed that she should uphold the feminine practices and traditions that all the other women in the family had done.

And yet...she knew _nothing_ about her mom. Only the smell of her lemony perfume and the feel of her soft silk dress, and how Haruka would play with the little tassels at the edges and would trace the intricate flower patterns that were embroidered in so many different colors. She also remembered her mothers lilting laugh, and her smooth silky black hair, which she often tied into a neat, simple yet elegant bun. But when it came to her mother's interests, hopes, dreams, job, and aspirations, both for herself and her family, she hadn't a clue. Did her mother like robotics too? Had she wanted Haruka to take music like her father claimed, or was there something more? Something her wasn't telling her? Could you blame her? She was so young, and when your a child, you tend to forget about the things that seem so far away and complicated. All she had cared about was that her mother was there, and that she would always be there.

How very wrong she was.

Haruka stared at her reflection in the cafe's window. It wasn't much, just a vague image, but enough to make out her features. So much like her mother's, except for her honey brown eyes, much like her father's. She had a pale white elegant shaped face framed with bangs on her forehead and jet black hair like that of a raven's feathers running down just a little past her shoulders. She continued staring at her reflection, and it was only for a moment, but she saw a flash of flames appear in the window's glass, a burst of yellow, hot searing pain and a cry from a woman.

Haruka gasped, almost letting go of the cup in her hands. Her heart was beating fast, and she could hear her pulse pumping, the sound roaring through her ears.

"Excuse me? Are you alright miss?" Haruka raised her head to find a middle aged woman standing in front of her. She looked a bit concerned but had a gentle, caring smile and eyes filled with laughter lines. Her hair was styled in a brown bob like cut, flecked with strands of graying hair.

It took a moment for Haruka to respond. She took a deep breath and swallowed; "Uh, yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Sorry if I worried you a bit, it just...I um...scare easily."

"Really? What were you scared of?" the woman asked, her gentle smile never wavering.

"Uh...my...reflection." Haruka answered.

"Your...reflection? Oh. Um, well, we all have our little fears huh? Personally, I get real jittery when Mrs. Matsuda's around," the woman gestures to an elderly lady sitting in the other side of the cafe. She was wearing clothes that Haruka though best not to describe.

"By the way, I forgot to introduce myself," the woman continued, "I'm Cass. Cass Hamada. Owner of this little cafe. And you are?"

Haruka smiled. "Oh, I'm Haruka. It's very nice to meet you. You're cafe is lovely." she replied sheepishly. The woman named Cass smiled.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Thank you!" Just then, there was a customer calling for her attention. "oh dear. Well, I best go back to business. It was really nice meeting you Haruka dear! Please come back when you have the time!" she said, and with that final remark, she walked away to attend to the other customers. Haruka smiled, amused and delighted to have met a new friend. She took a few more sips and finished the rest of her coffee, leaving a good amount of tip on the table. She grabbed her satchel and books and made her way out of the cafe door.

She didn't notice the tall, lean, well dressed young man in a SFIT cap come in the same time as when she left. And she wouldn't have known him had she decided not to ditch piano class.

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**Just in case you're all wondering, this story takes place before Tadashi's death. (T-T)**


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